Bach ep. 1

“If aliens saw us walking our dogs and picking up their poop, who would they think is in charge?”

Marylin Monroe and Dog via myrescuedogrescuedme.com

The truth is that the Western world is seeing dogs gaining more and more influence over humans, hitting benefits their ancestors would have dreamt of: sleeping on beds, eating purposefully cooked pasta and meat, being walked three times a day, and taken on holiday with their families.
According to statistics, globally, dogs are present in around one in three homes. Silent sentinels of a widespread fluffy dogtatorship.
This won’t be the history of dogs’ rise to power, but just the story of one of the furry sovereigns, who, like any respectable king, rules his territory with splashes of sensible nonsense and love.
Brace yourselves. You are about to plunge into the story of King Bach, the Chickenhearted.

Baptism
Our king was the last of seven brothers and sisters. His mother-in-law named him Demon, but it would have been clear to everybody from the first glance that he was actually gentle and kind. He was so small and young when destiny elected him to the throne of Soleil – a small-scale sunny realm in the northernmost region of Italy – that on the way to his new kingdom, his new siblings decided to give him a more proper name and christened him Bach.
Bach, like one of the greatest composers in the history of Western music, whose art is as delicate and soft as the puppy was. But as in the motet “Jesu Meine Freude”, after the calm comes the storm, his new family would soon discover that Demon was a fitting name, too.

Bach: The Demon era
In the first months of his life in the new home, not only did he pee in every corner of the house, but he hid under the fireplace, under the table, and under the chairs, biting, chewing, and destroying everything within his reach. He ran from room to room tearing leaves off plants, stealing unattended slippers and socks, and biting defenseless feet without mercy. He was often possessed by true rages of destruction, which took turns with angelic power naps and soft-eyed looks, granting him forgiveness for all brigandage. Within a short time, Bach was feared and loved: the necessary features to become a king.

If his family realized and accepted that he was in charge, understanding his times, desires, needs, and wants, Cow and Chicken, instead, had a little more difficulty adapting to Bach’s lifestyle. They were pet toys adopted to spend time with the little king, but what gave him great satisfaction did great harm to them: Cow was shaken and torn until Bach took out its soul, while Chicken lost his legs and eyes for having dared to stare at him for too long.

It is known, however, that karma goes around, whether among nobles or commoners, and what the little king did to Cow and Chicken came back to him.
A few years later, indeed, during one of the long walks the king used to take along the cycle path, his curiosity led him to take a deep sniff at a coil of electric wire, which surrounded a meadow where several cows were grazing peacefully.
Needless to say, the shock he got shook him to the gut, causing him to run madly back to his secure home walls.
From that day on he was not only afraid of cows and wires, but he began to dread every loud, sudden, suspicious noise. A door closing, the wind rattling a marquee, a courier delivering heavy packages with the help of a noisy trolley.
Shortly, Bach began to be afraid of everything, to be a wimp: King Bach, the Chickenhearted.

Bach the Chickenhearted
And this is how a little good boy named Demon turned finally into Bach. A spoiled, pampered, and loved dog who, with all his follies and quirks, manages to rule the house and the hearts of his family. And maybe yours. Stay tuned to discover more.